


Passcodes

by Rainwater_Apothecary



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Casual Intimacy, M/M, Other, Pre-Relationship, Team Bonding, Unspoken words, field identification and espionage mechanics, the most casual coming out known to man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 14:42:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20193949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainwater_Apothecary/pseuds/Rainwater_Apothecary
Summary: A passcode is so much more than just a handful of empty words. It's a key to an entire relationship.





	Passcodes

"Alright cowboy, what do you know?" Genji settled his friend against his hip and checked his eyes. Jesse looked dazed and his words stammered but his answers were correct.

"Hi Genji." The other three members of their strike team turned at the sound of his groan.

The cyborg tapped Jesse's cheeks and prompted him again.

"What do you know, cowboy?"

"I know...oof. I know about the scar on Genji's elbow. I know D.Va's nickname. I know Pharah's middle name." He blinked and looked at the archer.  
"And I know Hanzo's favorite color." 

The team relaxed just enough to welcome him back to conciousness. As each member touched their cheek to his he answered further.

"An 'x'. Cottontail. Nana. Purple." 

'Passcodes' were similar to the security questions used on outdated encryption devices: each member has pre-selected options they can slide answers into. It was general, but custom. No two operatives had the same answers. Just knowing one another's questions was good enough to establish identity.  


The correct answer was enough to establish trust.

Genji had loads of scars. Hana had a few nicknames. Pharah didn't have a true middle name, but that was its own answer. Hanzo's favorite color though...

-

"What, you're sayin it ain't blue?" The cowboy had almost pitched off the walkway when the archer shrugged.

I find it soothing, but in truth..." He had looked past his friend's head to the gathering storm they had been watching roll in. He pointed at a sliver in the clouds of an ominous, milky lavender. "That is." 

Jesse had looked back and forth between his stoic drinking buddy and the pregnant clouds as the static picked up in the air around them. 

An easy smile stretched the cowboy's lips around his cigar. 

"Rent." 

"Hm?" 

"My favorite play." 

"I didn't take you for a theatre man, Jesse." 

"Well," He leaned back and flicked ash with one pinky. "Ain't nothin' wrong with a load a' poor, gay kids singing about New Mexico." 

Hanzo's eyes softened as he watched the sky with his friend. 

-

"I know McCree's favorite show." I know why he identifies with a marginalized group from the early 20'th century.

"I know Hanzo's favorite color." I know how his eyes look when they get lost in something bigger than anything man can create. 

"It isn't a western." I know what lies behind his smile and his spurs.

"It isn't Blue." I know what he truly loves, not what he wears on his arms.

A passcode always meant more than just a series of words.

I know you're gay and alone and I see you. 

I know that you're scared and small and I stand beside you. 

I love you. 

I know you. 

I see you. 

I understand you. 

I've got you. 

I love you.

"Purple."

"Rent."

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably one of my favorite things I've written for this fandom.
> 
> Two characters knowing each other, really knowing each other is the sexiest trope known to man. Mutual understanding and support. -chef kiss-


End file.
